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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116371">A Clandestine Commitment</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastin8r/pseuds/procrastin8r'>procrastin8r</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tiny Meat Gang (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Angels &amp; Demons, Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Earth, Enemies to Lovers, Fallen Angel, Guardian Angel, Heaven &amp; Hell, I promise I didn't forget this, I'm writing the next 2 chapters right now I swear, M/M, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Waiting For Update</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:36:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116371</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastin8r/pseuds/procrastin8r</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Noel's newest assignment is to Guard "Spock," a human living in LA. It should be easy enough, especially in the City of Angels, but his mortal just happens to be under the Influence of a certain fallen angel Noel once knew.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cody Ko/Noel Miller, Noel Miller &amp; Spock | spockmusic (Musician)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Clandestine Commitment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer 1: I wrote this for fun, I don't actually ship Cody or Noel, they are real people with real lives and real relationships, and I respect that. Their online personas are being used as characters here.</p><p>Disclaimer 2: I do not mean for this to portray Christianity or any other religion in a bad way, I'm just using the general "canon" that appears in movies and TV and whatever. This is in no way supposed to accurately represent religious ideas and I really don't think it'll offend anyone, but I thought I'd have this disclaimer just in case. I am an ex-Catholic atheist, so I know a little bit about the mythology and stuff, and the rest of the details come from shows like Good Omens and my imagination. Basically, this is a dumb and fun story; don't take it too seriously.</p><p>Disclaimer 3: There are a couple of other fics of this AU in this fandom/ship, and I will admit I was inspired by them to write this. However, I have my own direction for this story and I will not be copying other people's work. That being said, some tropes are bound to cross over. If you haven't read the fics I'm talking about, I recommend you do, since they're pretty good. (One of them is only two chapters so far and I'm super excited to see where that one goes, but it's also kinda on hiatus I think, and that really got me to post my own story.)</p><p>Disclaimer 4: This is my first multi-chapter story, and I'm still learning how to use this website. I promise not to abandon this, but my username is literally "procrastinator," so, just a warning.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">The church bells chime at exactly 7 o’clock, like they always do and always have, every single day since Creation. And every single day since he first heard them ring, Noel groans and tries to go back to sleep. You’d think that after thousands of years of the same schedule, he’d get used to it, but he never has and never will.</p><p class="p1">He burrows as far into the delicate white sheets of his bed as he can, one of his wings flopping out and hitting the floor. He grunts and rolls over, trying not to mess up his feathers, even though he’ll have to preen them as soon as he fully wakes up, regardless of how he lies in bed. Right on cue, a blinding light shines through his window. “Noel,” he hears the voice call from outside, one of the lesser angels delivering his second wake-up call of the morning. “Yeah, yeah, I’m up,” Noel snaps, loud enough for the angel outside to hear. He barely makes out some sort of annoyed mutter before the light passes and the angel moves onto the next house.</p><p class="p1">Sighing, Noel kicks off the blankets and peels himself off of the mattress, taking a moment to stretch all six of his limbs. He looks in the mirror and winces. Why does he look so awful today? Sighing yet again, he wipes his hand over his face and ruffles his feathers, trying to look alive. It doesn’t work, not really, so Noel heads over to bathroom, his feet protesting the feel of the cold quartz floor. He strips off his stupid white gown and whacks it away with his wing. Why they have to wear that to sleep is beyond him. He’d honestly rather sleep naked. But the thought of an archangel summoning him in his sleep and having to face them unclothed is probably Noel’s worst nightmare.</p><p class="p1">Noel turns the handle and waits for the water to become the right temperature. Even in Heaven, he has to fuss with the shower settings. Finally, it’s perfect, or at least good enough, and Noel lets the water wash over him. It’s not very soothing at first, since all of his feathers get waterlogged, heavy, and gross, but eventually he gets used to the feeling and succumbs to one of the few pleasant parts of his morning routine. But just as he’s finally feeling relaxed, the water shuts off. ("The mortals have to deal with droughts and water shortages all the time. We thought it would be fair for you to see how much better you have it up here," one of the archangels had explained, smiling, before snapping their fingers and ruining everyone's showers. That probably happened about two hundred years ago, though Noel has lost track by now.)</p><p class="p1">Noel could cry. He leans his head back against the tiled wall, mouth open in a silent scream of annoyance. Taking a few deep breaths, he steps out of the shower, freezing cold as soon as the outside air hits his skin. He grabs a towel - white, like every single thing in Heaven - and dries off as much as possible what with his wings being reverse sponges and all. Then Noel sits in front of the mirror, styles his hair, shaves, and returns the toothbrush and toothpaste he used in the shower to their shelf in the cabinet. He throws on a robe and heads out to his favorite sunning spot: the roof.</p><p class="p1">It takes a few labored flaps, his wet wings really in no mood to cooperate, but he lands on top of his humble abode and immediately lies down on the picnic blanket he had set up centuries ago. Sighing for the umpteenth time, but now in content, he spreads his wings and closes his eyes, waiting for the warmth of the sun to do its work.</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">He wakes up to someone poking him in the side. “Go away,” Noel grumbles, covering his face with his arms. When the annoyance persists, he wraps his now-dry wings around himself like a cocoon. “C’mon Noel, wake up,” a voice chimes. Aleena. Noel grumbles and curses but gets up nonetheless, shaking his feathers out before offering one wing to Aleena, who rolls her eyes but starts to run her fingers through it anyway. “You really should stop relying on me to do this,” she admonishes. “It’s been millennia, Aleena. If you have complaints, you should’ve voiced them earlier,” Noel counters, starting to preen the feathers on his other wing by himself. “Ha-ha, very funny, Noel,” Aleena says dryly. It takes about an hour, but Noel’s wings are finally in tip-top shape. He offers to help Aleena, who snaps at him that Kelsey clearly did that this morning and he should’ve noticed. There’s no real heat behind it though, since they’ve essentially had the same dynamic since Creation.</p><p class="p1">After hanging out a bit longer, Aleena says she should be off and Noel waves and watches her fly away, her long white stola billowing around her like another pair of wings. He almost flies off, too, but feels a breeze where there shouldn’t be one and realizes he’s still in his bathrobe. Cursing under his breath, he heads back inside the house to get dressed.</p><p class="p1">He doesn’t like what he’s wearing. Toga-like robes are really not his style. The craziest thing is that the vast majority of the angels here don’t care at all. In Heaven, everyone wears the exact same thing, or at least the angels do. He’s never actually been to the mortal side of it, where worthy humans spend their everlasting life after death. He thinks about it quite a lot, probably more than he should, but he has no way of getting there. He’s a Guardian angel, after all; the only mortals he’s permitted to interact with are living ones. And he loves it. He does. He really loves his job. At first, it was bad, and then it got worse. But as humanity developed, Noel’s assignments got more interesting. People didn’t just want to survive, they wanted to have <em>fun</em>.</p><p class="p1">And yes, there were awful instances throughout the years, but nowadays most of his jobs are pretty nice. Minus the occasional person with a terminal illness or abused child, of course. And it’s this time on Earth that makes Noel a lot different from most of the other angels, makes him crave more, makes him feel less grateful about being able to live in Heaven. What’s supposed to be perfect comes off as perpetual sameness, beauty in simplicity being boring and bland, the vast unity in everything an unwanted lie. Seriously, everything is white. The space is infinity large and infinitely empty. Every inhabitant looks the same because they all have to wear the same clothes.</p><p class="p1">Sure, there’s some stuff to do, but it gets old after the first century or so. Every day, Noel wishes he were on Earth instead. But it feels like the more he wants to leave, the less chances he gets to do so. He can’t even remember the last time he got to answer a prayer. 1984, maybe? That year was the best of his life, nothing like the book of the same name proclaimed. (He read that book the day it was released, since his ward at the time was a British bookstore owner. Now <em>that</em> year, 1949, was not a happy one for him.) Oh, the 80s were the best. Noel wonders what it’s like on Earth now. What year even is it? For a moment he thinks to ask Aleena's housemate, Kelsey, since she's a Guardian too, but that thought quickly vanishes. They don't really have free speech in Heaven. They're not supposed to discuss their jobs, especially when their jobs involve mortals. And yeah, he could probably get away with it, but why risk the wrath of an archangel? </p><p class="p1">Noel looks over his outfit once more before heading out. He has to make his daily offering to God, and he's late. Flaring his wings dramatically, Noel springs into the air, the usual rush of flying always exhilarating, despite doing it almost every day (with the exception of his time on Earth of course). It's laborious but calming, like any other exercise. When he finally lands outside the closest church, he takes a moment to inspect his feathers. It looks like half of his and Aleena's work is already erased, a surprising amount of his feathers tattered just from that short flight. He chalks it up to stress and poor air currents, fixing a few of the major tears by sliding the filaments between his fingers, re-hooking the microscopic barbules.</p><p class="p1">Then he looks up and catches the look another angel is sending him. Oh, right, he's about to walk into church. Priorities. Noel gives a sheepish smile and folds his wings back before stepping into line and thinking about what he should offer. It's exciting because he gets to summon something out of thin air, and it's his only chance to use his angelic powers in Heaven. Otherwise, he has to wait for an assignment on Earth, and even then, he's supposed to do it only when necessary. When it's his turn, though, the archangel manning the station gives him a scornful look. "Noel. You're rather preoccupied with appearance, are you not?"</p><p class="p1">"Uhh-"</p><p class="p1">"That's what I thought. You do know that Pride is one of the seven deadly sins, right?"</p><p class="p1">"Of course-"</p><p class="p1">"Yes, Noel, we all love our wings. But they're not really <em>ours</em>, they are a gift from God. So why don't you return that gift today, yes?"</p><p class="p1">"I- what?"</p><p class="p1">"Go on. Return a feather."</p><p class="p1">"Oh. Of course," Noel breathes out, simultaneously relieved that he only has to give up one feather and mortified that he's being punished just for fixing his plumage. Wary of the archangel's eyes on him, Noel spreads a wing and reaches for the base of his longest primary. He yanks it out, managing to hold in his yelp. He's not bleeding or anything, but it still hurts like Hell to rip out your biggest feather by the root. It's more than five feet long and rather hard to maneuver over to the golden bowl-like brazier, but he drops it in and watches it turn to smoke. There's no disgusting smell like one would expect of burnt keratin. There's no smell at all. It's not very impressive, but the archangel nods in satisfaction. As Noel turns and walks back, he feels anything but satisfaction.</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">"I didn't get to summon anything," Noel complains to Aleena and Kelsey, sitting at their dining table. They're eating a very late lunch, Kelsey cheekily dropping grapes into Aleena's mouth. In their stolas, they look straight out of a scene from Ancient Rome. Rome was fun, too, Noel thinks. Dramatic, even barbaric at times, but fun. "What do you mean?" Kelsey asks in confusion, dangling the bunch of grapes in front of Aleena's face. Noel grunts and spreads his wing, revealing the large gap where his longest feather should be. Aleena looks shocked, but Kelsey laughs and shakes her head. "You had it coming, Noel," she claims. "Me? If anyone's too Prideful, it's you," he claps back. They continue to bicker for a bit, Aleena pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stop the inevitable headache from appearing.</p><p class="p1">Finally, she has enough, standing up from the table. "Kels, you are totally Prideful. But you know what, you should be, you're awesome. Noel, relax. It'll grow back. It'll be painful and annoying, but it'll grow back," she says, diffusing the argument. Noel shudders at the thought of the huge bloodfeather he'll have to deal with once his body starts regenerating its lost feathers. He already has one from a previous molt still growing in, but this one will be way worse.</p><p class="p1">"Noel, what are you brooding about? I-" Aleena gets cut off when Kelsey's entire body starts glowing. Her hidden eyes open all over her skin as her normal two eyes close. The Third Eye on her forehead shines with rainbow light. Noel and Aleena stare, mystified, as Kelsey puts her hands in a prayer position and then disappears. A minute goes by in which no one speaks. Then Aleena is pacing around the room, cursing at the horrible timing of her housemate's assignment. "We had plans!" she snarls. "Why the fuck do I have to love a Guardian?"</p><p class="p1">"...love?" Noel asks softly, eyes going wide.</p><p class="p1">Aleena stops. "You know what I mean."</p><p class="p1">"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Noel swallows nervously. Relationships between angels are forbidden. Otherwise he'd be in one already.</p><p class="p1">"Okay," Aleena repeats, eyeing him warily before sitting back down and sighing. "When was your last assignment?"</p><p class="p1">They're not supposed to talk about this. But they're not supposed to talk about love, either, and no one stopped them from doing that. "1984."</p><p class="p1">"What?"</p><p class="p1">"The last time I went to Earth was in the year 1984. I was there for eight months. It was amazing."</p><p class="p1">"Noel... Kelsey gets an assignment about every two years or so."</p><p class="p1">"What?"</p><p class="p1">"Yeah."</p><p class="p1">"What year is it?" Noel feels like the world is spinning.</p><p class="p1">"2020."</p><p class="p1">"What?"</p><p class="p1">"It's 2020 on Earth."</p><p class="p1">"I... I missed the turn of the century?"</p><p class="p1">"I'm sorry, Noel."</p><p class="p1">"Why didn't you tell me?"</p><p class="p1">"Kelsey and I celebrated together. It was... private."</p><p class="p1">"2020."</p><p class="p1">"That's right."</p><p class="p1">"So it's been <em>two decades</em> since the turn of the century, and you never told me?"</p><p class="p1">"We're not supposed to talk about it."</p><p class="p1">"Well we are now!" Noel snarls, furious. It's a feeling he hasn't had in a long time.</p><p class="p1">"I'm sorry, okay? It's not safe to talk about it. Especially for Kelsey and I. And we didn't know it was this bad for you."</p><p class="p1">"You never noticed how I'm always around?"</p><p class="p1">"I..."</p><p class="p1">"Fuck, Aleena. Is something wrong with me? Why is no one praying to me? Am I even a Guardian angel anymore?"</p><p class="p1">"Noel."</p><p class="p1">"I'm serious! Why the fuck haven't I gotten any assignments? I want to go to Earth more than anything!"</p><p class="p1">"Noel!"</p><p class="p1">"You'd understand if you went there," Noel sighs, his anger turning to sorrow. Then he looks up and sees Aleena's expression. Wow, that was the wrong thing to say. "I'm sorry-"</p><p class="p1">"It's fine. But I think you should leave." Aleena turns away from him.</p><p class="p1">"Yeah. Yeah, okay," Noel mumbles, heading for the door and feeling like shit, for two reasons now.</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">Kelsey gets back after only a week. It was a very simple assignment, apparently. Or maybe she just got really lucky and some other force fulfilled the prayer, relieving her of her duties. In those seven days, Noel hadn't said a word to Aleena. He knows it's hard enough that her partner gets to leave Heaven, and he made it worse by yearning for Earth. But to be fair, it is his <em>job</em>, or at least it <em>should be</em>. He still can't think of a reason why no one needs him. Sure, less and less people are praying by the day, but <em>come on</em>, there has to be someone that needs help. And when he runs into Kelsey at offering time, she tells him that 2020 is a shit year before quickly heading home. And then he sees, right in front of him, another Guardian answer a prayer and teleport to Earth. So it isn't fair. If 2020 is shit, then people are complaining. And most prayers are complaints. So where on Earth are the ones for him?</p><p class="p1">Noel isn't sure if he should keep waiting or if he should ask his superior what's going on. He doesn't want to bother his boss, but at the same time, he wants to visit the human world. Because it's his job, of course. Not because he's bored with Heaven and his friends hate him now or anything. Yeah, definitely not that. </p>
<hr/><p class="p1">"Hello, Noel," Michael's secretary smiles. She writes something down on a piece of paper and glances at another document before meeting Noel's eyes again.</p><p class="p1">"Hi, Miss." (That's literally the word written on her nametag.)</p><p class="p1">"Do you have an appointment?"</p><p class="p1">"Not yet, Miss. That's why I'm here," Noel answers.</p><p class="p1">"It looks like the angel he was going to meet with next has Fallen," the secretary explains.</p><p class="p1">Noel's heart stops. "Fallen?"</p><p class="p1">"That's right. Such a shame. Such wasted potential. Imagine, an angel not being happy here! Ludicrous," she laughs.</p><p class="p1">Noel gives a weak chuckle in reply.</p><p class="p1">"So, since that angel is gone, Michael actually has an open slot right now."</p><p class="p1">"You mean I can meet with him?" Noel clarifies, his heart rate speeding up. Sure, he's wanted this for decades, but it still seems rushed, like he's being put on the spot.</p><p class="p1">"That is correct. I advise you to get a move on. He doesn't like waiting."</p><p class="p1">"Oh, of course. Thank you, Miss," Noel nods, heading for the office door. He can feel his wings quivering with anxiety, but he's excited, too. He takes a deep breath before knocking.</p><p class="p1">Immediately, Noel feels nauseous. The door doesn't open, rather, he gets sucked through it. He forgets to open his eyes, but then he hears someone clear their throat and they snap open by themselves. Noel finds himself kneeling on the cold diamond floor of an empty room. Well, empty apart from one creaky wooden chair in a style he last saw in 1213 BC. Oh yeah, and that chair isn't empty, because sitting in it is none other than the Holy archangel Michael, God's favorite and also Noel's boss, who he hasn't talked to in centuries. His superior gives him a bored look, like he's a little bird that's too plain to admire yet too passive to shoo away. "You aren't Brian," he notes. Who the fuck is Brian? </p><p class="p1">"Er, no, I'm Noel."</p><p class="p1">"Yes, Noel. I know you. You haven't been very active lately, hmm? Bored with Earth?"</p><p class="p1">"What?"</p><p class="p1">"Or are you just lazy? Sloth is a sin, you know," Michael continues, ignoring Noel's interruption.</p><p class="p1">"I-"</p><p class="p1">"You aren't going to Fall, are you? Like Brian? That would be such a shame, losing two angels in one day."</p><p class="p1">"Of course not, sir. I am proud to be a Holy angel. Actually, I-"</p><p class="p1">"Good to hear. But not too Prideful, right?"</p><p class="p1">"No, well, I mean-"</p><p class="p1">"I'm kidding," Michael laughs. It sounds... wrong. Like he's not supposed to laugh. Like he had to learn how to. Honestly, it creeps Noel out.</p><p class="p1">"Sir," Noel tries, straightening up a little. He means to continue his sentence, but Michael's eyes drift to his folded wings and widen in realization, and he interrupts.</p><p class="p1">"Oh, you're the one who offered a feather a few days ago," he notices.</p><p class="p1">"Yes sir."</p><p class="p1">"A little unorthodox," Michael's lips curl with his use of a pun, "but I thought the sentiment was nice. Clean, maybe. Simple. Sophisticated."</p><p class="p1">"...Right."</p><p class="p1">"Like this room. I was never one for too much show, you know. Being humble is what we should all strive for. I'm very good at that."</p><p class="p1">Noel can think of a few reasons why that's a lie. The diamond floor, maybe. Or how the archangel bragged about his humility. That was ironic. "Of course, sir."</p><p class="p1">"Yes, yes. But enough about me. What is troubling you?"</p><p class="p1">Finally. "Earlier you mentioned that my job performance is lacking. Well, the truth is, I haven't gotten a single prayer since 1984." Noel waits for Michael's disapproval, but he doesn't get any.</p><p class="p1">"1984? What do you mean?"</p><p class="p1">Noel blinks. "My last assignment was in 1984."</p><p class="p1">"1984."</p><p class="p1">"That's right."</p><p class="p1">Michael doesn't respond, and Noel realizes the archangel doesn't understand what the number means. Before he can think too hard about that, he hurriedly explains. "The year AD 1984 is the last time I answered a prayer and spent time on Earth. That was thirty-six years ago, now." </p><p class="p1">"Oh, yes. Of course. Why?"</p><p class="p1">"I haven't received any prayers. I... I'm worried, sir. Am I still a Guardian? Why haven't I gotten any assignments?"</p><p class="p1">"Hmm," Michael says, holding out his hand. A papyrus scroll appears, probably several thousand years old. "Well, it looks like this is your records. Nothing seems to be out of order." </p><p class="p1">"Oh."</p><p class="p1">"Come here, Noel," the archangel beckons. Noel obeys, slowly rising, his knees aching and his legs cramped. He walks over to the wooden chair and Michael touches his shoulder gently. Then they are fading through dimensions, changing forms until they are in their True states, balls of firey light. The chair and floor and room are gone. Now it's just an infinite plane of nothing. Noel hears Michael's consciousness talking to his. "You should be all set now," the voice promises, and then Noel is back in his usual form, in his bed, like nothing happened at all. He looks around the room, then out the window. Just as he's about to question if he just woke up from an insane dream, he feels a burning pain in his forehead, and then his eyes close and his Eyes open and he hears the disembodied voice of a mortal sending a prayer.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>"Hey, umm, I don't know if anyone's really out there, but like, man am I freaking out right now. I just got back from a wack party, dude - can I call you dude? So like I'm coming home from this party and I swear the Uber driver is a psychopath. He's just saying weird shit and then he stares at me for like an hour, and I'm so uncomfortable and then the fucker drives through a red light and someone else crashes into us and I feel like I'm going to die. And he gives me this weird look and then he smiles, like it's funny. Like he could've killed us or someone else but he's smiling. And I just get out of there. And now I'm walking home in the dark and like I'm scared and shit. And high. So like, who am I even talking to? Myself. Maybe I'm the psycho. Yeah, it's just me-"</em>
</p><p class="p1">The prayer ends abruptly as the mortal decides he's not talking to anyone. No. No! Noel claps his hands together into a prayer position and slams his forehead against them. He barely catches the last of the human's consciousness, but it's enough. It's enough. He feels himself disappear from Heaven, and then bam, he's opening his (two) eyes to a dingy side street and a boarded-up garage. And then he sees the long-haired man talking to himself and heading down the sidewalk. Noel grins like the Joker. He's back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Constructive criticism is appreciated. Also, chapter 2 is already in the works :)</p><p>P.S. I am really interested in birds, and while a human-like creature having wings is anatomically impossible, I try to keep the information about flying, wingspan, and feathers as logical as possible. It really bugs me when angel-like forms (and pegasi, dragons, etc.) are drawn "realistically" with tiny-ass wings or written as being able to hide supposedly large wings under their clothes or hover in place without magic, etc. Wings are proportionately huge! (And hovering is impossible for most vertebrates; some birds like hummingbirds and kites are the exception, but even then they must have specialized tails, which angels definitely don't have, and it's very tiring.)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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